


Spat

by Gaqalesqua



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: Cunnilingus, F/M, Makeup Sex, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-16
Updated: 2015-12-20
Packaged: 2018-05-07 01:38:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5438711
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gaqalesqua/pseuds/Gaqalesqua
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Having argued with Elder Maxson, Nora is upset and uncertain. Her companions urge her to reconcile with him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This fic relies on an established relationship where they’ve butted heads before regarding synths and the Institute, hence Maxson’s much calmer attitude when they get to talking about it.

“All right, I gotta ask,” MacCready began. “What’s with the boss? Why’s she so…I dunno, not like boss?”

“What’d you mean?” Nick asked, knocking dirt off his hat. The merc laughed at that.

“Oh jeez, god Nick, telling me you don’t see it?” he asked. “She’s down. Really badly down. Ever since she and the Minutemen blew the Institute to kingdom come she’s been depressed.”

“She tell you about her kid?” Nick began.

“Do you mean the synth, or the wacko who ran the place?” MacCready shot back.

“Let’s go for both,” Nick sighed. “Nora’s watched her only child die. Before that, she watched her husband die trying to save her only child. Then she wakes up in a strange place that’s almost completely unfamiliar, and drags herself around the place patching up. When she does find her son, turns out he’s a robot, turns out it ain’t even him, because her son is sixty years old and has all the emotions of power armour. And then they find themselves on opposite sides of the field, you dig? Her boy – whatever human part of him was left – died down there with the Institute, and now she’s got a ten-year-old boy she thought she was going to get. Look, Mac, I get it, you ain’t a shrink. But is it that difficult to work out?”

“Heyyy, Valentine, MacCready,” a voice rasped, and John Hancock swaggered over to the pair and sat down by them. “We talking about our favourite survivor?”

“MacCready’s still processing that Nora lost a son,” Nick informed him. “He’s not sure why she’s been so down lately.”

“Oh, fuck, it ain’t just the kid,” Hancock laughed. “Boytoy in the flying dick got his own dick bent out of shape about how she rolled with the Minutemen, rather than the Brotherhood, and they ain’t spoken in about a week.”

“Wait, seriously?” MacCready began, incredulous. “Maxson and Nora…nothing? But…those two…they never _stop_ talking.”

“I know,” Hancock agreed, and he sounded grim. “She brought me with her but I’d taken some Jet and all I got was raised voices. Not yelling. Dunno what kinda guy Maxson is but he doesn’t yell at her, man. Eventually she just stormed out, face like a radstorm. Never seen her that made before.”

Angry? Nora? MacCready thought of three words when he thought of Nora – shy lawyer mom. She could talk her way out of most situations given enough time to bullshit, even if she was less keen on physical violence. Shit, the hell had Maxson said to her?

“God, I miss Lucy,” he mumbled. “It was easy, y’know? I didn’t have a giant airship hanging over the Commonwealth to constantly remind her of my presence. She didn’t constantly pop up on the radio so I could angst over her.”

“So you think the two of them should try talking again,” Hancock translated.

“Yeah. Look, Scratchface is gonna sit up there and pout forever. You think he’s gonna leave the Prywhatchacallit?”

“Prydwen.”

“Nah. He’s not gonna. I mean either we kidnap him and oh, _fuck_ , good luck try’na kidnap a _Maxson_ of all goddamn people from the Brotherhood, or we urge our boss to go and make friendly,” MacCready suggested.

“So who’s gonna suggest it?” Hancock asked.

“Oh fuck no,” MacCready muttered. The ghoul laughed.

“Allow me,” Nick offered. “She can hardly rip anything else off of me that won’t fall off by itself.”

 

* * *

 

 

Nora wiped the dust from the frame of the only remaining picture of the three of them, placing it down on her bedside before letting out a reticent sigh. Sometimes, she wondered what the Commonwealth would have been like if Nate had survived with her. Mr and Mrs Pendleton. They could’ve been a crime-fighting duo, keeping the streets of Diamond City squeaky clean.

There was no Nate.

Instead, Nora had done something stupid, and fallen head over heels for a guy who was already almost ten years her junior, a guy who was the no nonsense leader of what was essentially an army aboard an airship. A guy whose smile was so rare it knocked her for six when it came out. A guy who had been inordinately upset over something when she came back from the Institute, and instead of a congratulatory kiss, Maxson’s jaw had tightened and he had coldly asked why she’d used the Minutemen.

It had gone downhill from there. Maybe the Jet-inhaling ghoul companion hadn’t been such a good idea.

And now she was sitting in her home, her strange, synthetic son outside playing with Dogmeat, her real son dead and buried, and her heart felt like it was going to crumple. She was happy that she had Shaun, sad that he wasn’t her Shaun, not really, and crushed by Maxson’s anger. It didn’t make any sense. They’d spent hours talking about how the Institute needed dismantling. And now she’d done it. Why didn’t that make him happy?

The sound of Nick’s footsteps drew her out of her thoughts, and the synth detective sat down carefully by her.

“You know, MacCready’s getting worried about you,” he began. “Says you’re looking down.”

“I’m afraid I am,” Nora admitted.

“Is this about Maxson?” Nick asked. “Hancock told us.”

“Yeah,” she said softly, “yeah, it’s about Art- Elder Maxson.”

“Something happened? Things were said?” he guessed. She nodded. “We had a talk about what we felt you should do, and bear in mind, doll, we’re not saying you gotta. But we all think you should at least get the hell up to the Prydwen and talk to him.”

“Just get on the Prydwen and talk?” Nora asked.

“Doll, if there’s a woman I know for whom that strategy is a sound win, it’s you,” Nick assured her. “Lawyers. Seriously. They can twist whatever they want their way. Go for it. If nothing else, you’ll see him again, right?”

“If this turns out horridly,” she muttered. “I don’t know what I’ll do.”

“Doll, when he hears you wanna talk, he’ll keel over in fear. I know I do every time you start sweet talking our opponents,” the synth said.

“You flatter me, Valentine,” Nora said with a small smile. “Okay. Okay, I’ll go speak to Elder Maxson.”

“Just remember, doll, you’re a lawyer, and he doesn’t stand a MacCready’s chance in a room full of Gunners,” Nick told her, to the sound of gruff protestations made by the mercenary in question. Nora smiled. 


	2. Chapter 2

“Elder Maxson, sir!”

Arthur twisted around to see a young squire standing nervously before him and twiddling his fingers.

“Report, squire,” he requested.

“You asked me to keep an eye out for Sentinel Pendleton’s vertibird, sir?” the squire began. Arthur’s stomach made a pit. This was either good news, bad news, or…

“She’s just docked, Elder Maxson. Sir!”

“Thank you, squire. That will be all.”

“Sir!”

And as the squire fled the room, Nora Pendleton appeared in the doorway, wearing the _fucking_ blue Vault suit and a nervous expression.

 _Please God let this be a time when she’s shy,_ Maxson prayed. Out loud, he said “Sentinel Pendleton.” He felt ill as he watched something in her face drop at the formal title.

“Elder Maxson,” she replied softly. “I…came to talk.”

“Yes, I imagine you did,” Arthur agreed. _Shit! That came out wrong._ “After all, we didn’t exactly part as friends last time we spoke.”

Understatement of the century. He’d dug himself a hole and watched her become slowly overworked into a rigid, unyielding diamond.

“I wanted to ask you a question,” she began.

“By all means.”

She took a moment, clasping her hands behind her back in a mimicry of his own pose. It was strength, not mockery, and he dared to look her in the eye for a moment. Her gaze was determined, though without steel. He didn’t think she was angry.

 “Did you want the Institute destroyed?” she asked.

“Yes. I have always believed it could not be allowed to exist. It is a threat to mankind and a blight on history,” he replied.

“So then why were you so angry that I used the Minutemen to do the job?” she asked.

His throat clenched. How could he possibly explain it? It would come out completely wrong.

“I’d hoped you would have considered us strong enough to take them on alone,” he replied. “More importantly, I wanted it to _be_ us who freed the Commonwealth from the Institute’s designs.”

“So…it was about pride?” Nora asked, and he wasn’t sure he’d ever seen her look more disappointed.

“Not exactly...Although, I wouldn’t say…it…wasn’t.”

“That doesn’t make any sense,” she informed him gently.

“It’s hard to explain,” he faltered. What beautiful blue eyes she had.

“Well then, by all means, at least try,” she invited.

“It’s not really about proving worth. Hell, in a way it wasn’t even about the Brotherhood.”

He allowed himself a tiny movement towards her – just one foot, and she didn’t flinch, she didn’t move back. She just gazed at him with her lovely eyes and looked expectant.

“So it was personal pride?” she asked. God, she sounded disappointed.

“No!”

“Arthur…” she said softly. “You’re not making any sense. Just tell me what the problem is.”

“Oh, god, Nora, it’s about you!” he began, almost exasperated with himself. “It’s about waking up to you sobbing your son’s name in your sleep, and every time you thought about him, the pain on your face was a knife twisting in the gut. I wanted us to light the bastards up together and at the end, I wanted you to press a switch and feel some kind of victory over the people that robbed you of your family.”

She grasped his hands gently, and he raised one to her face, slender, dark fingers still clutching his. She looked thoughtful, but thankfully no longer disappointed.

“I took the Minutemen for personal reasons,” she said gently. “Arthur…I didn’t realise. I’m sorry.”

“So am I,” he admitted.

“I just didn’t know that it meant so much to you,” she added. “I didn’t know how much you wanted to do this.”

“Why would it not? The Brotherhood of Steel is here in the Commonwealth _because_ we came to take down the Institute. Joining you in burning them to pieces would have fulfilled our purpose here.”

“I suppose it no longer matters,” she began. “The Institute is gone and the Commonwealth is much safer now.” She paused. “What will the Brotherhood do now?”

“There’s plenty of things to do here. We’re not leaving any time soon,” Maxson promised. Nora smiled.

“Good. I’m glad you’re sticking around.”

They gazed at each other for a moment, and he watched her blush beneath his eyes. God. No matter how many times they’d been together, how loud he could make her scream, she still blushed like a girl. It was cute, and it finally tempted him into moving, slinging an arm around her waist and drawing her into him as his free hand ran over the blue jumpsuit she wore.

“This thing must be useless,” he murmured. “Why do you keep wearing it?”

“It’s comfortable,” she whispered, her face inexplicably red.

“It looks good on you,” he praised hurriedly.

“You did mention you liked it,” she agreed quietly. “It…it’s why…I…”

It was his turn for his face to flush, watching his lover bite her lip shyly (and not coyly, she wasn’t a coy woman,) and the Elder leaned down, hands cupping her ass, as he kissed her greedily, licking along her lower lip, squeezing the flesh beneath his fingers. Nora moaned, wrapping her arms around his neck as he peppered her skin with kisses, moving to her neck and applying his teeth, feeling her grip tighten. He hitched her up against him, pressing a leg between her thighs and using his hands to push her into riding it.

She whimpered, her hips rolling of their own accord as he leaned against the railing for support, his hands moving to her breasts, then to the zip of the Vault suit, dragging it quickly down to her navel and peeling it to her waist. Both her hands slid behind his neck as she took the initiative to kiss him, panting as his fingers ran over the bare skin of her back, pausing at the rumpled blue suit around her waist. She sneaked her hands beneath the collar of his coat and urged him to remove it, and Maxson let his battlecoat fall to the floor as he resumed his assault on her neck, mouth moving down her skin, his tongue drawing a wet line over the curve of her breast as he unclipped her bra.

She always covered herself without fail whenever he exposed her breasts. Maxson gently took her wrists and moved her arms away, and before she could recoil he leaned down and began to mouthe at the soft skin, his hands on her waist. She leaned back against the railing, and he watched her fingers twitch as he licked her nipple, gripping the metal rails as he rolled her breast beneath a thumb. He changed his target, leaving open-mouthed kisses down her body, biting at her stomach and causing her to recoil as he licked at the mark. He grasped her suit, rolling it down her body until it had effectively trapped her knees together. He nipped his way down her stomach, pausing over a new scar.

“Where’d you get this?” he asked softly.

“Gen 1 Synth scratch in the Institute,” she murmured.

“Damn, Nora,” he began.

“I know, I know,” she said hurriedly. “If you’d been there…”

Maxson felt suddenly guilty. He gripped her underwear with his teeth and tugged the cloth down, exposing the dark curls between her legs. Fingers parted her mound, and the Elder licked at her nub. Nora let out a whimper of need. Maxson didn’t pretend to have any finesse at this – he sucked on her and Nora seemed to enjoy it, sliding a hand between her legs to tease her entrance whilst the woman above him whined, curling a hand into his hair and holding firmly. He grounded her with one hand on her hip, keeping her firmly in place as he slipped his fingers inside her. There wasn’t much skill in his movements, but he knew where to curl and what kind of pace she liked, slowly fucking her with his hand until he felt that tell-tale tremble.

She was finding it difficult to stand, and Maxson paused, standing with his fingers still inside her, and scooped her up, laying her down on top of his coat. He parted her legs, returning to taste her as the woman curled both hands into his hair, her nails biting pleasantly into his scalp as she arched and threw her head back. She moved a strand of hair away from her mouth, whimpering his name. He groaned, enjoying the sound of his fingers in her and the hitch in her voice the moment she began to beg. He felt her thighs begin to lock around his head and reached a hand up to play with her breast, her cry of passion an intense and pleasurable sound.

“Arthur,” she whimpered. “I’m so…”

So close? He could feel it, starting to clench around his fingers as he thrust and curled them faster, her entire body slowly shaking as he brought her to her end. She leaked out onto his fingers when she found it, not with a scream but a cry, her hands trembling as she combed them through his hair. He slowed, wanting to continue, but she tugged on him and he moved his body up hers until their mouths met, his teeth finding her lip. She wrapped her arms around his neck and gasped, one leg curling around his waist to pull him closer. He cupped the back of her neck, pad of his thumb rubbing the perfect curve of her cheekbone.

“Hold a moment,” he said, grasping her around the waist. “Let me…”

He took hold of her, picking her up and rolling over onto his back, still lying on the discarded coat with Nora on top of him.

“Let’s try it this way,” he murmured, lifting her just enough to slip inside of her from behind. She scratched her nails down his back, looking a little nervous. “Are you…?”

“I’ve never…” she admitted.

“Just roll with me,” he persuaded. “I’ll do the work.”

His hand found the small of her back, and he urged her into a slow, easy roll of her hips, his thumb buried between the curls covering her mound. The stimulation pushed her against and away from him, and the Elder ground himself upwards, burying deep inside her. Nora let out a gasp of pleasure, Arthur’s hand keeping her down on his waist. Maybe into a moment he’d try out something a little harder.

She did look nervous, on top for once instead of beneath him where she was comfortable, but he ensured that she was relaxed, his thumb rubbing in circles over her nub as he slowly slipped in and out of her from below. She also looked very good, one hand on his chest, the other in her hair, unpinning her bun. Dark brown waves slipped down over her shoulders, part of her fringe hiding the shy, deep blue eyes, thankfully not covering the coy flush of her cheeks. God, it had taken him some time to get them where they were. He’d always been on top, he knew she preferred it, but the view from below was spectacular too. Still, she was covering her chest, and he reached one hand up to grasp her wrists once again and move them down. He had a feeling that if he let them go they would simply spring back to their original place, so he didn’t let go, and instead he put his free thumb in his mouth, licked it, and increased his pace as he placed it back onto her nub.

She bucked wildly, moaning his name with a gasp as her whole body began to move, unable to look at him as she bit her lip and started to lose control. He moved his hand and found her rolling her hips of her own accord, and instead of covering herself again she scratched his stomach. Arthur swallowed a laugh as her nails grazed a ticklish part of him, concentrating on the tightly-wound expression on her face as her mouth fell open. She swallowed briefly, letting out a high, keening noise as he bucked, her sex enveloping every inch of him. He canted slightly and her eyes shot open, teeth gritting as she cried loudly.

She was begging for more now, looking away from him as he gave her a particularly rough thrust. She yelled, _oh god_ , bracing her hands on his shoulders and digging her nails in hard enough to hurt. In Maxson’s state, his blood pounding, the bite felt good. He sat up on his elbows and leaned into her, sucking a nipple into his mouth. Nora lost control, squirming helplessly as he got rough with her, wetness running down his cock.

“I can’t-“ she begged, and he sat up properly, both hands going to her waist. Seconds later he was pounding her, lifting her physically with his hands as his lower body thrust into her mercilessly. She kept a tight hold on him, nails on his back leaving mean scratches and red marks. “Arthur,” she pleaded, and then she came, biting his shoulder to stifle her screams. He drew back, moving his body from her teeth, and kissed her, swallowing her whimpers and whines, enjoying the sound of his name on her lips and moving to her neck. He left marks – there would be an awful lot of marks. She collapsed onto him, her slick dripping down his length as he finally buried himself in her to the hilt and came.

Maxson fell back, bringing her with him as she tried to regain her breath post-coitus. She drew unstable patterns with shaky fingers onto his chest as she recovered, her body heaving for air.


	3. Chapter 3

“God I love you,” she whispered, her body slick with sweat, spit and lubricant. He drew her in closely, tangling his wet hands in her dark hair and listening to the sound of his pounding heartbeat.

“Yeah, I love you too,” he murmured. “I need to know…why did you take the Minutemen?”

She curled into him, silent for a few moments, her fingers still moving aimlessly over him. Finally, she looked into his eyes, and for some reason, she was incredibly sad.

“I didn’t think…I didn’t you needed to be down there,” she eventually said. “I told you, before, about Shaun, and your reaction…it proved to me that you couldn’t go. The last thing you need is more ammunition against them.”

“I didn’t _need_ to be down there?” he asked. “Because I despise the Institute and their synths?”

“You might hate the synths but the Institute doesn’t exactly treat them any better,” she replied. “They’re experiments. They piece them together bone by bone, muscle and vein, give them skin and a brain and then…”

She inhaled deeply.

“I understand you’re suspicious. When I found them, when I found my…son…I couldn’t remember ever being so angry. I wanted to blow the whole place to bits. I watched them make a synth and was horrified by how they used them. And I know you, Arthur. You spared Danse because of me, and because of your history with him, but those synths, down there? You didn’t know them. It would’ve been a clean sweep with the Brotherhood, removing any and all occupants and then blowing their reactor. And it would’ve festered, I know it would have.”

“You’re right,” he agreed. “I don’t care about those synths. I don’t, frankly, understand why you do.”

“I used to be a lawyer. I became one to help innocent people. I still want to.”

“Nora, they are not people.”

“Nobody has ever given them a chance. The Institute used them. The Commonwealth hates them. The Brotherhood would destroy them. You say you don’t want the mistakes of the past repeated, but you don’t remember the past.”

She sat up, running a hand through her hair.

“Arthur, I was there. Two hundred years ago, it was suspicion and anger that sent us to war. We squabbled among ourselves rather than work together, we hoarded resources. We used what we had for ourselves, not for others. The Institute did just that and now it’s rotting in hell. Leave the synths alone, and they won’t hurt anyone. Please, you didn’t see them come out of that lab. They were so confused. They were like babies, it was so sad.”

“Please, stop.”

Nora sighed.

“I’m loyal to the Brotherhood,” she told him. “And I love you. I’m hoping some day you can understand why I feel like I do.”

“What do you mean, confused?” he finally asked. “What do they do? What do they say?”

“It was a man that came out the first time,” she recalled. “He looked at me and he said, in this really confused way, ‘I’m new here.’ New, like it was his first day at a job. Not like he’d just had life breathed into him. It was horrifying, Arthur. If you could see how harmless they were when they first came into being…maybe you wouldn’t hate them so much.”

There was a very long pause, and Nora ran her hand over his face, touching the deathclaw scar on his cheek.

“You know, child soldiers were frowned upon when I went to sleep,” she murmured. “I think I see why.”

He gazed up at her in curiosity. “Oh?”

“Look at you. You’ve got the frown lines of a 40 year old man. There’s grey in your hair. You’re, what, 20? Kids your age used to go to the movies and have parties. Now I feel like you fight just to breathe.”

He ran a hand down her back, curling his fingers at the base of her spine. She exhaled slowly at the sensation, her eyes fixed on him.

“It’s a waste of your youth. What did you call them? Squires? You’re just kids, Arthur. It’s not fair of them to do this to you.”

“You stumble out of stasis, into this wasteland, with no combat training, just your wits, and now look at you,” he murmured. “Two weeks ago you destroyed the greatest threat the Commonwealth ever saw, using a group most people thought weak and helpless. And through it all, you’ve somehow managed to try caring for every damn thing in the Commonwealth, human or not, like you’re the mother of everything in existence. I don’t think I’ll ever understand why you risk your life for the people and the things that you do.”  

“Too many people don’t care,” she said softly, taking his hand and squeezing it. “There’s a lot of anger out there. Diamond City hates ghouls. The Brotherhood hates synths. I hate the Institute. Maybe it’s time we stopped being so divided and tried to work together.”

“An idealist,” Arthur murmured.

“Worse. Lawyer,” she replied with a soft chuckle. “You know I love you. You know my loyalties lie with the Brotherhood. You don’t need to be afraid of my actions. And more than that you don’t need to fear synths. In fact, the moment you do, the moment you treat them badly, you seal your own fate. You won’t be able to push them without them pushing back. If you use force, so will they. It’ll escalate.”

He dragged her back down to lie with him, curling a hand into her hair.

“We can talk about this later, Sentinel,” he said quietly. “Right now, I’d like to hold you.”

She made a soft noise as he scratched his fingers over her scalp, and the two of them lay there in silence.


End file.
